


Recovery

by Fuguestate



Category: Watchmen
Genre: AU, Hurt/Comfort, Kinkmeme prompt fill, M/M, Watchmen Kinkmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-11
Updated: 2010-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:44:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuguestate/pseuds/Fuguestate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt <a href="http://spam-monster.livejournal.com/3498.html?thread=9036714#t9036714">(link)</a> at the Watchmen Kinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery

They'd had to separate. Daniel won't even say what happened - sometimes he can, but not always. It's enough to know that whatever it was brought out something brutal in him, something hard and inhuman, and he needs his partner to pull him back from despair.

Sometimes it's Rorschach who needs it, when there aren't enough targets to match the rage inside him and it's threatening to claw him to pieces. Then Daniel turns to him in the safety of the Owl's Nest, not to comfort but to _confront_ \- giving him leave to strike, to bruise, to batter out the thwarted anger and the fear that no matter what they do it will never be enough. The armor can take it - _he_ can take it - enduring the blows meant for the escaped or the dead or the too-nearly-dead until something finally gives out and they both collapse in exhaustion.

But this time it's Daniel's turn, and where Rorschach hungers for violence, Daniel needs refuge from it. He is physically large, and strong, capable of immense destruction when roused to it. He has easily broken as many bones as his partner, and with equal ruthless efficiency.

But sometimes it hurts him, too.

Rorschach reaches out as he's learned to do, guiding them upstairs into Daniel's home, away from the smells of concrete and steel and blood. They only make it to the living room this time, but it will do. He reaches up, lifting the goggles away from his partner's reddened eyes. The cowl is next, peeled back to reveal features that always surprise him with their softness.

Freed thus from Nite Owl, Daniel's arms come up to gather him close. He feels gauntleted hands ghosting up his back and shivers like he always does, as though every time this touch shocks him. His partner's voice stumbles and shreds itself over the jagged shards of this night's memories, spilling out fears and wishes and pleas and endearments like blood to wash away the darkness that tries to cling to him.

Daniel's hands fumble with his coat, his suit, and he reaches down to let them past, where no one but this man is permitted to be. They sink to the floor, the carpet's pile soft enough for this, and he submits to touches more gentle than any other in his memory. He allows himself to be taken apart by this armored body because he is strong enough to do so, because it is no less than what Daniel does for him. He muffles his cries against Daniel's neck, the sound reaching out to grasp the other's humanity once again, until something finally gives out and they both collapse in exhaustion.

.

-fin-


End file.
